


Holding Out for a Hero

by TardisTexan



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU: River is a singer in a club, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisTexan/pseuds/TardisTexan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU:  Amy and Rory drag their friend Doctor John Smith to a club to see a rock show.  The opening act, a certain woman with blonde curls, takes his breath away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A taxi cab stopped in front of the small club, a small crowd already gathered outside on the street. Amy and Rory got out of the cab and their best friend, John, followed them. John looked at the club in dismay. It was going to be crowded and loud and full of drunk people. Exactly the kind of place he did not want to be. He'd much rather be at home in his flat reading a book, on the roof with his telescope looking at the stars, or planning his next trip. John was a professor of Anthropology. He loved visiting and immersing himself in other lands, other cultures. He wanted to know them and their people, but the people of current London pop culture was not a culture he was interested in. 

But Amy's favorite band was playing and she had convinced him that going to see them would be fun, and that he needed to get out. It was true that he had been a bit of a homebody since his last breakup, and his best friend Amy had decided to take it upon herself to get him out into the world. 

They lined up outside of the club and Amy turned around and gave him a head to toe look over. “Seriously, John? That is your work outfit. Why in the world would you wear tweed and a bow tie to a rock show? Are you trying to keep yourself single?”

“Hey! I'll have you know that bowties are cool!” John replied, adjusting the tie and preening a bit. Sure he looked different than everyone else, but that was sort of the point, wasn't it? He knew he looked good, it was just the rest of the world that didn't appreciate it. He looked at Rory for backup.

“I don't know, Mate,” Rory said, shaking his head. “You do always look a bit ridiculous.”

John ignored him and looked up at the marquee. “The Weeping Angels. Quite a morbid name for a band, don't you think? Please tell me they aren't one of those mopey, depressing groups all dressed in black who just stand there and look sad.”

Amy rolled her eyes at him. “How can you be a Doctor and a professor and know absolutely nothing about the world around you? They are one of the most popular bands in Europe. And no, they aren't depressing. They were, maybe a bit, in their younger years, but the name was already out there so it stuck.”

“River Song is the opening act. Who is that?” John asked.

“Don't know,” Amy replied. “Hope they're good though since I plan on being right up front through the whole thing so I can have my spot for the Weeping Angels.” 

John shot Rory a pleading look but Rory just shrugged. John knew that Rory would do anything for Amy. Standing close to the stage for a crappy opening act was one of the lesser things he was willing to endure.

They made their way into the club and Amy almost sprinted to the stage and staked out a place just to the left of center right in front of the stage. They stood for a while chatting, waiting for the show to start while the club filled up. Eventually the lights went down and a band filed out on stage. And when a woman with long legs and a halo of blonde curls followed them out, the men in the audience all suddenly stopped in rapt attention. 

The woman walked over to the microphone and flashed the crowd a dazzling smile. She was wearing a very tiny, gold sequined dress with no back and a short skirt. Her smooth, tanned legs went on for miles, only interrupted by a thigh holster strapped to her leg. John wondered for a second if that was a real gun in the holster, but dismissed the thought quickly. The fabric of the tiny dress pulled across pert breasts that obviously needed little support as the dress wasn't going to allow for much. Her hair was a riot of golden curls and his fingers itched to reach out and touch one. The fact that she was a little bit older than the average pop star didn't matter, in fact it just made her more intriguing to him. She was a golden goddess and he was ready to worship at her feet. 

“I'm River Song, and these are The Boys. Are you ready to have some fun?” River yelled into the mic and when the crowd yelled back, the band began to play. 

Amy looked over at John and laughed. She reached up her hand and shut his gaping jaw and began to dance to the music. John didn't know the song, but apparently everyone else did as they all sang along as River started to sing  
 _Where have all the good men gone_  
 _And where are all the gods?_  


John was entranced. The woman on stage was breathtaking. She was beautiful to be certain, but her confidence and the way she moved drew him in. River turned her back to the audience, the little slip of a dress barely covering what looked to him to be a gorgeous bum. He watched her, her hips moving to the beat and he gulped. He was more turned on than he had been in a very long time. 

River turned back around and shook her curls and John froze. He _knew_ her. Well, didn't really know her per se, but he was sure that he had seen her before. He wracked his brain as he watched her. She is totally at home in front of a crowd, he thought, and then it hit him. As a rule, he hated venturing outside of his department, but one of his colleagues had talked him into going over and seeing a talk given by one of the Archeology professors about her latest discovery a few weeks ago. He generally thought that Archeology was rubbish so they had sat in the back of the room so he could dash as soon as he got bored. But the pretty woman with gorgeous blonde curls had given quite a good lecture and he had been mesmerized by her then too. He had wanted to talk to her after the lecture, but she had been surrounded by students and colleagues and he didn't want to disturb her. He always intended on going back to the Archeology building to see about speaking to her, but he had always gotten distracted. That happened a lot, and now here she was in a lot less clothes and he was even more intrigued.

It was her, the Professor... Pond. That was it, Pond. He was almost certain of it. The next song started, and this one he knew. It was a cover of a more recent song that Amy and Rory listened to a lot. 

At one point, the goddess on the stage spotted John. Smiling during a break in the song, she mouthed “nice tie” and gave him a wink. John blushed furiously and averted his eyes. He pulled out his phone and did a quick search. He looked back at the radiant woman on the stage and again at his phone. Yes, he was almost certain. Doctor Melody Pond was currently standing right in front of him under the name of River Song, gyrating her hips and belting out the final notes of the song.

Amy clapped and gave a whistle. “She's great,” she said to Rory and John. “And you,” she poked John in the chest, “I think you are a bit smitten.”

“A bit what?” John asked her incredulously. “You must be joking. She's an attractive woman in very little clothes. I noticed her, that's all.” 

Amy raised her eyebrow at him. She was still watching him and laughed as John's eyes went wide. River had just given a low throaty moan into the microphone as the beginning notes of Garbage's _#1 Crush_ started. John watched, staring, as River picked up the microphone, stood directly in front of him, and looked into his eyes. She moved her hips from side to side slowly as she started to sing with a low, whiskey voice.   
_I would die for you_  
 _I would die for you_  
 _I've been dying just to feel you by my side_  
 _To know that you're mine_

John panicked. Her gaze was locked on him, and he could feel the seduction like a blanket wrapping around him. He had no idea what to do. He clenched and unclenched his hands and squirmed under her gaze, but he did not look away. River moaned into the microphone again, licked her lips and then broke their eye contact and sashayed across the stage and had all the men in the room following her every move. 

John took a deep breath, not realizing that he had been holding it the entire time River had been looking at him. Amy rolled her eyes at him and went back to dancing, but John's eyes did not leave River as she moved, moaned, and flirted her way through the song.

John watched River Song exude sex appeal for the next forty-five minutes. He caught her eye several times through the show and each time she would make a small movement that he thought was just for him – a lift of the eyebrow, a pucker of her lips. At the end of her set, the crowd went wild for her and she smiled her dazzling smile, blew them all a kiss, and walked off stage. 

When the cheering was over, Rory went to get them drinks. When he came back, he said “The bartender says she sings here about once a month, to sign up for the email newsletter to get the show calendar.” 

“Well, I know how to get John out of the house now,” Amy said, elbowing John in the ribs. “You are totally hot for her, admit it.”

“Amy, I'm smart enough to know that was all an act. She's a performer, they all do it,” John tried to say nonchalantly. He didn't know why he didn't tell them about knowing what her day job was. Maybe it felt like it would spoil the magic of the goddess that had been on stage. 

As they drank their drinks and waited for the next show, John kept turning it over in his head. The intelligent focused woman he had heard speak, and the sexy, brazen, vixen he had seen on stage. He wanted to know more about her, he wanted to talk to her. Fuck it, he just wanted her. He couldn't remember ever seeing someone he just outright wanted, right there. It was too hot in the club, the air was heavy, he couldn't breath. “I'm going to get some air,” John said to his friends and he headed for the door, sitting his empty glass on a nearby table. 

John went out the door and slumped against the wall, breathing in the cold, evening air. He ran his hands over his face and through his floppy hair. He needed to calm down. He didn't get excited about women like this. He liked women, certainly. Had even been passionate about a few, but none of them had ever affected him out of nowhere like this. 

He was breathing, heavily, his eyes closed, willing his body to calm down, when all of the sudden he heard a sultry voice very close to him say, “Hello, Sweetie.”


	2. Chapter 2

John was breathing heavily, his eyes closed, willing his body to calm down, when all of the sudden he heard a sultry voice very close to him say, “Hello, Sweetie.”

John's eyes flew open and his head turned and there was the glorious River Song. She had changed into leggings and boots and a loose Van Halen tshirt with the neck cut out. He could see her shoulder and collarbone and it took some effort for him to tear his eyes away. “Did you enjoy the show?” she asked.

“Yes, yes I did. You were amazing,” John answered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Thank you,” River said, taking a drink from a flask but keeping her eyes on him. 

“Uh, I was just.... getting some air. Hot in there,” John said, uncomfortable under her gaze.

“Thank you, again,” River said, smirking, but then feeling a little bad for teasing him, “But yes, I always come outside after a show to cool down too. The cool night air feels so good after being on stage.”

John shuffled back and forth on his feet, not sure what to say next. He was about to tell her how great the show was again when River said, “So, bowtie and tweed. Let me guess, you are a professor.”

John looked her in the eye and smiled. “Yes, I am, and so are you if I am not mistaken.” River raised an eyebrow, more amused than shocked. John held out his hand to her, “Doctor John Smith, Anthropology.”

River took his hand and shook it. “Oh, I read your paper last month on that little tribe of nomads in the Middle East. Did you really spend a month with them? During the summer?”

John smiled, “Yes, I did. It was tough to be sure, but thrilling. And you are an archeologist.” 

“Recognized me did you?” River asked, taking another swig from her flask.

“Yes, I saw you speak a few weeks ago. You were quite compelling in front of the students.” John looked at his feet, “Quite compelling on stage also.” After a few beats of silence, he looked back up at her and inclined his head toward the club door. “Why do you do it? Why do you sing on stage in a seedy bar? You are quite a good professor from what I hear.”

River moved a bit closer to him and reached up and touched his tie. “What was that word you used? Thrilling? During the school year, when I am trapped here in dreary London, being on stage gives me a charge, a thrill. It's fun,” she shrugged.

John looked down at her and felt her body moving just a little closer. The desire he had tamped down was flaring back to life. He reached out and touched a curl. And before he realized it, “You sure gave me a thrill,” had tumbled out of his mouth. His eyes went wide. “I'm sorry, that was inappropriate.” He tried to take a step back, but River laughed, grabbed at his coat, and pulled him a bit closer. 

“I'm getting cold now, I think I'll go back inside. We can hear the band from my dressing room. Would you like to join me?”

John's heart beat fast. He did want to join her. He wanted to talk to her and learn all her secrets. Smart, beautiful, brazen.. she was mesmerizing. But at the same time, he didn't want to talk. He wanted to push her against the wall and have her right there. Instead of saying anything and take the risk of having his words betray him again, he just nodded. River took his hand and led him back inside. The noise and warmth of the club assaulted him as he walked inside the door. River pulled him through the to the back, nodding at the security posted at the hallway leading backstage. 

John followed River into the small dressing room just as a cheer went up in the club. The Weeping Angels must be about to start. John felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took it out. It was a message from Amy. _Where are you? The show is starting._ He quickly typed back, _Ran into a fellow professor outside. I'll meet you after the show._

He dropped his phone back into his pocket and looked around the little room. River was pouring an amber liquid into two small glasses and handed him one. He spotted her holster on a table with various little black pots of makeup. He took a small sip of the drink and nodded toward the holster. “Whats with the gun?”

“Part of my costume. It's part of River Song.” she said, taking a long drink from her glass. “River Song takes no prisoners.”

“I don't doubt it,” John smiled. He looked over her things and said, “I'd like to have an alter ego. I'd be a space traveler, going from place to place,” he said, getting a far away look in his eye. “Maybe helping people when I could.”

They heard the band start playing, the sound muffled in River's small dressing room. River stepped closer to him again. “What would your name be?” she asked, sipping her drink and looking up at him.

“I think it'd just be The Doctor. The word can mean so much, but it always always means good things.”

“So what happens when the benevolent Doctor meets the notorious River Song?” River asked and took the drink from his hand and sat both glasses down on a nearby table. She pressed close to him and put her arms around his neck. John automatically put his hands on her hips, his eyes dropping to her lips. He licked his lips, his mind racing. 

“He would definitely be intrigued,” John said, “He'd know that she would leave him burned, but he'd still go straight toward the fire anyway.” The bass and muffled music thumped along with his heart. Want ached in him and River was looking up at him with a look he had rarely seen in a woman looking at him. His desire won out over his nervousness and he bent his head and kissed her. 

River moaned and arched against him. John's hands came up to her back and pulled her closer as he deepened the kiss. Their lips parted and his tongue swept into her mouth, meeting hers in a hungry dance. River's arms tightened around his neck and she kissed him back eagerly. One of John's hands made it's way up and he wound his fingers in the damp curls at the back of her head, kissing and kissing her. 

When they parted to breathe, River pushed at him and shoved the tweed jacket off his shoulders. Her fingers found the tie at his throat. “You know, I rather like the bow tie,” she said in a low voice, before tugging at it and sliding it off his neck. River pushed John back a little and he moved backward, his legs colliding with a couch in the middle of the room and he sat down roughly. River straddled his lap and surged forward and kissed him again. John's hands found her face and one hand wound around her neck as he pulled her down into him. The kiss was hungry, demanding, and he moaned into her mouth when River shifted in his lap, brushing against his growing erection. So she did it again. He kissed her over and over, his mouth pushing against hers and then letting her push against him. 

River's fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt as she kissed her way across his face, her mouth moving toward his ear. John's hand's moved and slipped under her tshirt, traveling up her back as he kissed the shoulder exposed by the wide neck. River's hands were undoing button after button and when her hand slipped inside and touched his chest, John realized what was happening. He stopped. “Uh.. River.. Melody... Profess....”

“Call me River,” she breathed into his ear before capturing the lobe between her lips. 

“River, uh.....maybe we should slow....

“Do you really want to stop, Sweetie?” River breathed into his ear as she continued with his buttons. 

“I don't have anything with me...” he said, trying to still her hands.

“The club keeps condoms in the dressing rooms,” River said, leaning back and looking at him mischievously. She ground her hips against his lap again. “Lots of randy young men in bands I hear,” she said, her fingers running down his neck and down his exposed chest. The music thumped and the air was hot and stuffy, but he shivered under River's touch. 

Was he really going to do this? Have sex with a woman he had just met, in a small backstage dressing room? He looked up at River. She was a goddess, beautiful and sexy, and apparently she wanted him. He wanted her too. So, so much. It was too good to be true. He pulled her to him, his mouth open on her skin as he kissed her neck and her collarbone, hardening even more when he heard her moan above him. His hands moved around her ribcage and tentatively brushed against her breasts, finding them bare. When River made a small noise, he brushed his thumbs across her nipples as his mouth found hers again.

John kissed her, their mouths hot and open and wanting, as he teased her nipples, River moaned and her hips started to move against him again. When River pulled back to breathe, she pulled the shirt over her head and John's eyes immediately fell to her breasts. His hands cupped them again. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered to her and he dipped his head to capture one of her nipples in his mouth, noting her sharp intake of breath. 

The muffled music from the band filled the room as River's hands wound into his hair and she arched her back as he teased and kissed her breasts, using his hands and teeth and lips until she was moaning and trembling above him. River got up on unsteady legs and pulled him up with her. She yanked the shirt from his trousers and they shed him of his shirt. He pulled her to him, crushing her breasts against his chest and kissed her again. His hands freely roaming her back and her bum through her leggings. River pulled away from him, and he made a sound of protest. “Just a mo, Sweetie,” she said, quickly moving over to the dressing table and pulling a small package from one of the drawers. 

She came back and sat on the couch, quickly removing her boots and pushing them out of the way. River pulled John back toward her by his belt and moved her hand over the bulge right below. John's breathing increased and he watched as River unclasped the belt buckle and then the button and zipper on his trousers. Her tiny hands reached in and touched him through his underwear and he groaned. She looked up at him and and he put his hands on her face and pulled her up to him and kissed her. One hand moved down and he touched her through her leggings, his fingers pushing against her core through the fabric. River moaned and whispered, “Clothes. Now,” and started pushing her own leggings down her hips. John quickly shed his shoes and trousers and knelt down in front of the now naked River and gently opened her legs. His fingers found her wet and hot and he slid them lightly through her folds. “So beautiful,” he murmured as his tongue reached out and flicked against her clit as he slipped a finger inside of her. River let out a small cry as he teased her and kissed her and used his hands to get her ready. River's moans mixed with the music and after a bit, he felt her pulling at him and he looked up at her and stood up. 

River pushed him back onto the couch and grabbed the condom. Her soft hands stroked him, feeling his hardness and she quickly rolled it down his length. Her mouth followed her hands, her lips encircling him and he bucked up against her. River rose back up above him and straddled his hips once again. John put his hands on either side of her face. “Are you sure, River?” he asked softly. River moved forward and put her lips to his ear. “Fuck me, Doctor. I need you,” and she slowly sunk down on his length. 

“Oh god,” John groaned as he wrapped his arms around her and pushed up into her. She was so soft and hot and she enveloped him and it was so good. They were both so amped up that they quickly established a fast rhythm, River rocking against him as he pushed up into her. 

It wasn't long before River's cries were increasing and he could tell she was getting close. He dipped his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth as his thumb found her clit and pressed. He sucked, and stroked and pushed up into her, over and and over until he heard her cry out and he felt her sex clench around him. He pulled her close against him and held her tight as she came, gently rocking up into her as she rode out the orgasm. 

John held on to her and picked her up and shifted a bit, until they were laying on the couch. River wrapped her legs around him and he rolled his hips against her, filling her deeply. He murmured her name as he pressed the length of his body against hers and pushed into her again and again. “You feel so good, so so good,” he said to her and she pushed her hips up against his. When River started panting again and making noises, he used his hands to push her thighs up, shifting her legs from around his hips to over his shoulders. He shifted himself and grabbed her hips. He wanted to be deeper, deeper, and soon he was driving into her over and over and River was making the most obscene little screams and it was driving him crazy. Before he realized it, his orgasm took him, his body spasming as he came. 

John released one of River's legs and moved his hand to her clit, stroking the swollen bud roughly, staying inside of her. River squeezed him and arched her back and when she came her body bucked up against his and she thrashed her head from side to side, the spasms shaking her body, her cries mingling with the loud crescendo of music from the club.

When they had both calmed, John looked into River's eyes and kissed her. He had no idea what to say, but all of the sudden there was wild applause and cheering from outside and they both laughed. River ran her hand down his chest, “You deserve that standing ovation,” she said and John felt a little bit of pride. “But that means the show is over. Better get dressed. They'll probably play one song as an encore.” 

John quickly moved and let her get up. He found the trash can and some clean towels. He quickly cleaned himself up and took a towel to River. He found his clothes and quickly dressed and he heard the band begin to play again. River was already dressed and throwing all her things in a bag. He wanted to say so much, but he had no idea what to say. Thank you? It seemed so condescending. 

River downed the rest of her drink and grabbed his hand. She turned up her face and he kissed her. He hoped his kiss said everything his voice was failing to say. _Thank you. Don't go. Can't we stay here? I don't want to leave your side._

She pulled him out of the dressing room and they made it to the back of the club as the band finished and the crowd cheered and whistled. They turned and went out into the cold air. People filed out behind them, the sounds of the crowd spilling out into the street. 

When River dropped his hand, John grabbed it again and squeezed. “I'd like to see you again, if that would be okay,” he said loudly over the crowd. River walked a few steps away and blew him a kiss. “You know where to find me!” she said, and disappeared into the crowd.

John watched her go, her cloud of curls lifting in the breeze. He heard Rory next to him. “Hey, wasn't that....?”

“Yes, it was.” John said, smiling.


	3. Chapter 3

Epilogue

The next Monday, Professor Melody Pond released her last class of the day and turned to gather her things. She put her papers in a folder and tucked them away in her bag along with a few artifacts she had laid out on a table. When she picked up the bag and turned to go, she saw the floppy haired Doctor Smith standing in her doorway.

“Hello,” John said.

“Hello,” Melody said, walking up the center aisle toward him.

“I was wondering,” John said, fiddling with the strap on his own bag, “If I could take you to dinner sometime?”

“That would be great,” Melody said stopping in front of him. “Just let me take these things to my office and we can go.”

“You mean now? Like tonight now?” John said, a bit taken aback.

“Is tonight not good?” Melody asked.

“Uh no, now is good. More than good, actually. Now is great.” John said smiling and offering her his arm.

Seven months later, Professors Pond and Smith were married in a small ceremony at the university chapel.


End file.
